


Out of Time

by baroque_mongoose



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: Gen, POV First Person, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baroque_mongoose/pseuds/baroque_mongoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A time traveller from the future ends up in the wrong past timeline.  Luckily, Agatha and friends are around to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Time

Even when one is making a dangerous journey across uncertain territory, one still has to eat. Normally it is my job to go and buy provisions and any other necessary supplies, because I can usually also pick up some relevant information at the same time. However, on this particular occasion, Violetta went; there were reports of a gang of bandits roaming in the area, and she insisted that, with her Smoke Knight training, she could evade them better than I could. I did not argue. Violetta can make herself almost invisible when she chooses.

She took a long time. Zeetha was just wondering aloud whether or not to go out and look for her when the door finally opened, admitting not only Violetta but another lady. “Um,” said Violetta. “You are so not going to believe this.”

The other lady was tall and slender, dressed in a very strange fashion which nonetheless suited her well. She wore her hair in dreadlocks, which were gathered together into a ponytail and loosely covered by a colourful scarf. Below this, she was wearing a garment not unlike a rugby shirt, but somewhat bulkier and lacking a collar; it was grey, and bore the words “University of Toronto” in English. Her trousers were dark blue, very tight, and made from some rather coarsely woven fabric which may have been linen, reinforced in several places with rivets. On her feet was an extremely substantial pair of black boots.

“Hi,” she said, in fluent German. “I'm Dr Zelda Ball. Call me Bucky. I'm from the future.”

Lady Heterodyne's eyes widened. “Oh, wow!” she breathed. “Really? How did you do it?”

“I used a quantum-mechanical technique, but I guess that won't make a lot of sense from your point of view, because quantum mechanics doesn't happen until the early twentieth century,” replied Dr Ball.

“I'd better introduce everyone,” said Violetta. “This is Agatha Heterodyne, this is Zeetha, this is Mr Wooster, and this is Krosp.”

Dr Ball grinned. “Awww. He's cute.”

“I really hope you were referring to Wooster there,” said Krosp, stonily.

Dr Ball blinked. “Eh. Actually I'm lesbian. How... why... do you talk?”

“I was someone's science project that went horribly right,” replied Krosp. “Don't ask.”

“Wait, but... this is the early 1890s, right?”

We all nodded.

She gazed around the room. “Your clothes,” she said. “They're... not quite what I was expecting. I mean, we've got a gazillion old photographs and drawings and things, and... you don't look like them. What's going on?”

“In what way?” I asked, interested.

“Well, you, for a start. You're wearing a red waistcoat. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's cool, it's got pizzazz, I like it, but... I was expecting a darker colour.”

I was not entirely certain what “pizzazz” was, but decided from the context that it was probably meant as a compliment. “My style of dress is actually rather quiet and restrained, by the standards of our time,” I said.

“He's right,” said Lady Heterodyne. “A lot of men I know would want gold braid all over the collar.”

“Something's wrong,” said Dr Ball. “Things are just not adding up here.”

“Could you be a bit more precise?” asked Zeetha.

“Well, like I say, I'm from the future,” said Dr Ball, “and I don't know of any kind of science that would enable a cat to talk, let alone have an intelligent conversation like Krosp here. I mean, for starters, the shape of a cat's vocal tract is all wrong for producing humanlike sounds, and that's before you even _start_ on the brain. Sure, some cats are seriously intelligent – I know, I used to have a Maine Coon – but verbal processing is a whole different ball game from working out how to open the fridge.”

“The... what?” said Zeetha.

“Fridge. Sorry. Like... a box that keeps food chilled?”

“Oooh!” said Lady Heterodyne. “That's a good idea. I ought to build one of those. It would be really useful.”

“Yeah... well, I'm not just talking about something you have to keep shovelling ice into,” said Dr Ball. “There's a heat exchanging mechanism. Works by compression and rarefaction of a gas. It needs electricity to power it.”

“Well, that's easy enough,” replied Lady Heterodyne, matter-of-factly. “And what do you do with the heat extracted from the air inside the box?”

Dr Ball looked disconcerted. “We don't do anything with it. It just dissipates into the surrounding air.”

“That's rather a waste, don't you think?” asked Lady Heterodyne. “I mean, if you've got a heat exchanger, you may as well put it to good use both ways.”

“Well... I don't know. I mean, we're not talking about a lot of heat,” said Dr Ball. “But, anyway, the fact remains that this is the 1890s and you've got a cat that talks.”

“You got a problem with that?” Krosp demanded.

“Not directly,” replied Dr Ball, “but I have got quite a big problem with the fact that you're not recorded anywhere in the history I know.”

“Well, don't blame me. Blame the historians,” said Krosp. “Incompetent lot. I ought to go down in history if there's any justice. Hmpf.”

“I notice, Dr Ball...” I began.

“Bucky. Please.”

“Er... Bucky,” I continued, “that you didn't react in any way when you heard Lady Heterodyne's name. Surely you have some historical record of the Heterodyne Boys?”

“The who?” asked Dr Ball.

We all exchanged mystified glances. “Something _is_ weird here,” said Zeetha. “Even in Skifander we knew who the Heterodyne Boys were.”

“In... where?” asked Dr Ball.

“Where I come from,” replied Zeetha. “And clearly you have no idea where it is.”

“Let me see,” I said. “I assume from your... er... jersey...”

“Sweatshirt,” said Dr Ball.

“Thank you. I assume that you are Canadian, yes?”

She nodded. “That's right.”

“Then you will know who the Queen of England is, I assume?”

“Yeah. Victoria.”

I stared at her. “I'm afraid not,” I said. “Her Undying Majesty's name is Albia.”

“Her... _Undying_... Majesty?”

“Correct,” I said. 

“Oh, God,” said Dr Ball. “Something's gone completely screwy somewhere. I mean, this just isn't right. I read all the historical accounts I could get my hands on before I went back, looked at all the images I could find, so I'd be thoroughly prepared and know what to expect, and now... it's all different. And it's _weird_.” 

“Don't worry, Bucky,” said Lady Heterodyne. “I'm a scientist. I may be able to help. But first of all, I think you'd better tell me about quantum mechanics.” 

Dr Ball frowned. “I'm not sure about that. I mean, it may cause a temporal paradox.” 

“It does rather appear that you are already in one,” I pointed out. “If your historical record of our time differs from our reality, then you cannot still be in the same time stream that you left.” 

She gaped at me. “Multiple time streams,” she said. “That would explain everything. It's a theory that gets tossed around a lot, but so far nobody's ever really had proof that they existed. You're clever.” 

“Not as clever as Lady Heterodyne,” I replied. “I know enough about science to come up with a reasonable theory regarding what has happened, but not enough to get you home safely.” 

“If Mr Wooster is right,” said Lady Heterodyne brightly, “then it doesn't matter what you do while you're here. You can't possibly cause a paradox, because it's not your time stream. Anything you do will affect the future in this time stream, but not in the one you left. And I think Mr Wooster has got to be right, because there's nothing else that would explain why all the history is different. So now you can tell me all about quantum mechanics.” 

“Uh,” said Dr Ball. “I... might need quite a lot of paper.” 

“We have quite a lot of paper,” replied Violetta, reaching into the rucksack she had been carrying and producing a large notepad. “Agatha's inclined to get through it pretty fast.” 

“Thanks,” said Dr Ball, and took a pen out of her pocket. Lady Heterodyne leaned closer to look at it. 

“What sort of pen is that?” she asked. 

“It's a biro,” replied Dr Ball. “It uses gel ink and has a tiny ball bearing in the nib, so that it writes smoothly. Well, good ones do, anyway. Cheap ones can be a bit temperamental.” 

“And how do you refill it?” asked Lady Heterodyne. 

“You don't. You've got to buy a new one. Well, there are some you can refill, but even then you don't just put ink in them like a fountain pen. You've got to replace the internal unit.” 

“Oh, that's no good,” said Lady Heterodyne. She took the notepad. “Let's see, now... you're using a gel, which presumably has got to be fairly viscous to stop it leaking out of the nib, and you want something refillable. Obviously your main problem is preventing air bubbles from forming in the barrel. So what you need to do...” She produced a pencil and started covering the top sheet of paper with sketches. 

Violetta, Zeetha and I exchanged glances. “I think this may take some time,” said Violetta. 

I nodded. “Shall I make sandwiches?” 

“Go for it, Wooster,” said Zeetha. 

I made sandwiches and handed them round. Dr Ball ate hers absently while scribbling with the other hand; Lady Heterodyne would probably have ignored hers altogether if Violetta had not shaken her and pointed to the plate. Even then, we had a minor mishap caused by Lady Heterodyne gesturing enthusiastically with a sandwich; a slice of cucumber flew out of it and hit Krosp on the ear. Since he happened to be napping in a corner at the time, he was not altogether pleased. 

Finally, Lady Heterodyne announced, “I can see what your problem is.” 

“Go on,” said Dr Ball. “Shoot.” 

“Well, you've tried to travel backwards through time by rotating a quantum wave function into the time dimension,” Lady Heterodyne explained. “Which is a good idea as far as it goes, but if you don't take into account the existence of multiple time streams, you've got a reasonable probability of collapsing the wave function in the wrong one. And, obviously, if you think about it, there _have_ to be multiple time streams, otherwise you wouldn't have a quantum wave function to collapse in the first place. You'd just have a single, unambiguous function. Now, in the spatial dimensions you don't have to think about the quantum wave functions of macroscopic objects, because all the probabilities cancel and you end up with something that obeys Newton's laws to a very good approximation. But once you start working in the _time_ dimension, those probabilities suddenly become quite significant because of the speed of light. So, basically, what's happened is that your wave function has collapsed a little sideways of where you were aiming.” 

Dr Ball blinked. “Sheesh,” she said. “Am I going to be able to get back safely?” 

“Oh, I should think so,” replied Lady Heterodyne brightly. “All we need to do is reconstruct your trajectory. And you've been really helpful. Now, when I build a time machine, I'll know not to use a quantum-mechanical technique.” 

“You are so smart,” said Dr Ball, admiringly. “I would totally date you.” 

“You needn't. I was born in 1868.” 

“Er... oh, never mind.” 

Lady Heterodyne blinked. “I think I missed something there. Oh well. Can I see your time travel device?” 

“Well, most of it's back in the middle of the twenty-first century,” replied Dr Ball, “but this is my locator.” She took out a small, black, more or less oblong device with rounded corners, several coloured buttons, a couple of lights and a tiny screen. “This is supposed to stay in touch with the time transporter so that I can get back. It doesn't look like it is doing at the moment.” She pointed to a flashing red light just under the screen. 

“Right! We can work from that,” said Lady Heterodyne. “I think we're going to need a lab assistant. Mr Wooster?” 

Well, I was the obvious choice, after all. I have been lab assistant to a spark before. Nonetheless, I admit I was still rather apprehensive. Not even Master Gil was in the habit of messing around with time travel. 

Zeetha looked at Violetta. “I don't know about you, but I'm getting bored,” she said. “Shall we go out and annoy a few bandits?” 

“Nah,” said Violetta. “I'll give you a game of draughts instead if you like.” 

The next few hours or so were rather busy. Once Lady Heterodyne had convinced Dr Ball to let her disassemble the locator (which, after all, was clearly not locating at the moment), both scientists swung into a flurry of activity. Various increasingly bizarre devices were constructed, tweaked, partially disassembled, reconstructed, calibrated, recalibrated and synchronised. I passed tools, took readings, reported anomalies, solved several formidable differential equations, and occasionally made coffee. And, finally, Lady Heterodyne reassembled the locator, powered it up... and the green light came on. 

“We did it!” exclaimed Dr Ball. “Agatha, you are a genius.” 

“It was fun,” replied Lady Heterodyne, beaming. “And it's taught me a lot, too.” 

“I'd better go back while the locator's still working,” said Dr Ball. “With quantum uncertainty the way it is, it may drift off again. But it's been so good to meet you, and absolutely wonderful to work with you. I wish you could come and see the twenty-first century.” 

Lady Heterodyne grinned. “Well, when I get my own time machine working, maybe I'll be able to come and look you up,” she said. 

“That would be too cool for words. Good luck with it!” 

She pressed one of the buttons on the locator, and shimmered out of view. I sagged into a chair. 

“Lady Heterodyne,” I said, “do you think we might perhaps take a break for dinner now? It is getting a little late.” 

“Sure,” she replied. “You go and get something to eat. Thank you so much for all your help. I'll come and join you in a little while.” 

I raised an eyebrow at her. “A little while?” 

“Well, first of all I need to build the refillable biro pen, and then there's the box for keeping food chilled, and there's a few other really useful gadgets Bucky mentioned that they have in the twenty-first century... and then I need to work out a completely new theoretical basis for time travel that doesn't involve a quantum wave function.” 

I raised my other eyebrow. 

“I'll bring your dinner in,” I said. “And please don't take it personally if I have to poke you with a spanner to get you to eat it.” 


End file.
